


On this rutted old road

by Izulkowa, p0em



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Bucky Barnes-centric, Emails, Endgame Fix-It (epilogue), Fluff, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Polyamory (past), Post-Black Panther (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izulkowa/pseuds/Izulkowa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0em/pseuds/p0em
Summary: “He might not be James Buchanan Barnes, a guy from Brooklyn sent to fight a war too big for him, but he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore either. He was Bucky, somehow a combination of these past two lives and yet something completely new. He wasn’t sure what, exactly. He was still learning what madehimtoday. It had been confusing, and it was still a bit frightening, but mostly now it was exhilarating. He was making peace with his past, slowly, and starting to feel like he could see a future for himself. A life past the Winter Soldier and Sergeant Barnes.”OR Bucky is spending some time in Wakanda, getting used to the 21st century and life as a former brainwashed assassin.(Title fromA Love That Will Never Grow Old, by Emmylou Harris)





	1. The world may have changed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Izulkowa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izulkowa/gifts).



> The day has arrived! I'm posting my entry for the CapRBB 2019 - my first time participating in any fandom event ever - where I had the pleasure to work with Izulkowa! She has been wonderful and I couldn't have asked for a better artist for my first time ahah! You can find her art here: https://izulkowa.tumblr.com/post/185379131781/my-entry-for-capreversebb-on-this-rutted-old
> 
> Thanks a lot to Lillaby, an amazing beta reader!
> 
> Fic and chapters titles are from _A Love That Will Never Grow Old_ , by Emmylou Harris.

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: How does the ocean say hello?

 

[Picture: Steve and Sam are sitting at a grey table, at the terrace of a bar. Steve is wearing sunglasses and has dyed his hair a dark brown, almost black. Sam has hung his own sunglasses on the collar of his shirt, looking directly at the camera, a bright smile on his face. He has an arm on Steve’s chair, and Steve has thrown back his head, laughing with his whole body. Three beers sit on the table in front of them, barely touched.

People around them aren’t paying them any attention.]

 

“It waves.” - South of France

 

* * *

 

Bucky was in Shuri’s lab, browsing a laptop she had kindly lent him two months ago. He had watched the movies and read the books that she had put on the drive, but until today he hadn’t dared to browse the web. Afraid of learning news about a family he had long left, afraid of stumbling onto something that would trigger a panic attack (it had happened more than once since they woke him out of cryo) or worse, trigger Hydra’s conditioning (Shuri had assured him it couldn’t happen, but you could never be too cautious). Even when he had been on the run, he hadn’t dared to look for anything personal after visiting the Smithsonian exposition. The influx of memories that had ensued had been too confusing, so he had left, staying away from any technology that could have been traced back to him or unsettling information.

Things had changed slowly. For a couple of weeks, he had felt more at ease in his body, more serene in his mind, and his psychiatrist, Bossomale, had gently pushed him to see more of the world. He wasn’t feeling well enough to go literally outside (the only times he had tried hadn’t been frank successes), but the Internet was a kind of compromise.

“Try the ‘Surprised Kitty’ one”, Shuri had said an hour ago.

Her smirk hadn’t reassured Bucky much, but he trusted her enough to know she wouldn’t put him in any danger and that she was only teasing, probably readying herself to laugh at his expense. And that she did when she realized he “awed” at the video. And the next. And the next.

“So, people still love cats,” Bucky finally said when he managed to tear himself from YouTube suggestions.

Shuri, seated at her desk and working on her tablet, smiled.

“You haven’t watched the other baby animals yet. You should prepare yourself.”

 

It probably wasn’t what Bossomale had in mind when she told him to explore, to get himself acquainted with the 21st century, but at least when he went to sleep that night, he dreamed of kittens and baby pandas and didn’t wake from nightmares for the first time in a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Please don’t take my sunshine away

 

[Picture: Steve is surrounded by Natasha and Sam. They are wearing bathing suits, standing on a beach, the sea as their background. Natasha looks sideways at the camera, a smirk turning one corner of her lips, while Sam has the biggest grin Bucky has ever seen on someone. Steve is smiling too, but one of his eyes is closed, probably trying to shy away from the sun beaming in their face as he takes the picture.]

 

Franco-Italian frontier, at the Mediterranean Sea. It feels more like being on vacation than on the run sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Shuri was taking measurements on his left side. She had been thinking about a new prosthetic for his arm, using vibranimum to make it more resistant than his last one, but mostly lighter. She had never betrayed anything while she studied his body, making no remarks about the scarring - sequels of torture still visible despite the serum - only the harding of her lips, the furrowing of her brows. Bucky had heard her once, when she thought he had left, muttering about Hydra and their barbaric experiences.

It hadn’t been easy, in the beginning, letting her get close, letting her study him. It had felt like Hydra. Even without the restraints, being in the lab, a medical and engineer team around him, he had felt like he was back in the vault, back in Siberia, only a tool to be experimented on, a weapon to be used.

Shuri had sent the others way until only the two of them had remained in the room, and Bucky had been able to breathe again. She was only a girl, not even seventeen. She smiled and laughed too much, almost blinding him. She called him by the name he gave her, always requested his consent before touching him. She wasn’t Hydra, she didn’t mean any harm.

She never called back the team, and every time Bucky had an appointment with her, there wasn’t anyone else in the lab.

“Stark must be envious of your work here,” he said, looking at the works in progress scattered around the lab and the notes she was taking for his prosthetic. He remembered the Stark exposition, the car that had levitated only for a moment. He remembered Steve talking about Tony on the drive to Berlin, of the way he had turned away from manufacturing weapons to find ways to protect people, to help them take care of their environment.

“Him and everyone else,” Shuri answered, not bothering to hide the smugness of her face and voice. “The space agencies all contacted T’Challa to give them enough vibranium to build new spaceships. He didn’t accept, of course. He can’t give to one and not the others. Even if he accepted, they would only try to outdo each other, and we would face a new competition for space exploration. Of course, we know at last we’re not alone in the universe, but T’Challa thinks it would be best for everyone if we focused our efforts on protecting ourselves before thinking of going away. And I can’t say I disagree with him on this.”

Bucky nodded. He understood their position, but…

“Space exploration?”

“Yeah, you know, Sputnik, Laika, Apollo, the landing on the Moon…”

She barely looked up from her notes, so she didn’t see the way Bucky’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“Landing… on the Moon?” His voice sounded broken and he almost felt self-conscious, but the only thing he could think about was humans. In space. On the Moon. That was fucking science-fiction… And yeah, okay, he was a genetically enhanced super-soldier who had been brainwashed and cryogenic-ed for seventy years, and it was pretty much the same for Steve (without the brainwashing). Their DNA had been manipulated, changed to be a better version of themselves. Bucky had a fucking robotic arm. He and Steve were the guys from the science-fiction books and comics they used to read when they were kids. But it had seemed normal, almost, what with Hydra and the war. They knew scientists would always experiment. But space exploration, it was something else entirely. What else had happened since the 40s that he wasn’t aware of?

“Shit, man, I forgot.” Shuri shook her head and put down her tablet for a moment. “It was during the Cold War. You heard about that?” Bucky nodded. He had vaguely heard people talk about it, but he hadn’t tried to look further into it when he had realized some of the things people had been referring to were related to some of his own memories from Hydra.

“The USSR and America were constantly trying to outdo the others,” Shuri continued. “Like, the USSR was the first to send a man into space, but the US was the one to send men to the Moon. It didn’t stop when the Cold War ended. We sent robots to Mars for example. Although, after the invasion in New York back in 2012, the funds for space exploration skyrocketed, but, well, we’re still lacking some technologies. You should look it up if you’re interested. I know a couple of movies and books on the topic too, if you want.”

When Bucky got back to his apartment, he may or may not have spent the night reading page after page of information. He read the books, watched the movies Shuri had recommended to him ( _October Sky_ , _The Right Stuff_ , _Hidden Figures_ , _Apollo 13_ , _The Martian_ …)

By the end of the week, he felt like his head would explode with the new knowledge. Without anything else to do, he dived into the Internet’s depths and it was hard to resurface.

 

* * *

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Is this still a run?

 

[Picture: Steve has an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. He dwarfs her completely, she seems so much younger than the fierce woman Bucky recalls from the fight at the airport. She is wearing her dark-red hair under a cap, dark makeup on her face, a dark summer dress and a red jacket with a red necklace. Steve is again holding the camera, and they are both looking at it, smiling, always smiling.

Behind them, a tilted tower rises from the ground, threatening to fall on the crowd around it.]

 

Tourists touristing. - Italy

 

* * *

 

The alert surprised Bucky, waking him up from his frenetic research. His heart tightened in his chest while he opened the mail, as it did each time. Steve never asked about Bucky; he had stopped after the first dozen times when he never got an answer. But Steve kept sending emails. He only sent pictures of him, of his friends. He was happy, he was alive and well, he didn’t resent Bucky for not writing back, he would wait, and Bucky felt like he didn’t deserve this. Steve’s confidence, love, and hope. They were too much for him.

Later he would blame it on exhaustion, but for now, he didn’t think twice when he clicked on the reply button. He didn’t think twice when he wrote :

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: (none)

 

They went to the Moon!!! A man fucking walked on the fucking Moon, can you believe this shit??? And they want to go to Mars!!! Seriously, we have to go there! (I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t find more perfect candidates than us to survive in space!) Space exploration is fucking awesome!

 

He didn’t read what he wrote, sent it before he could think about it. This was something he had to share with his best friend. They had talked about it for hours when they were kids, science and space, and it felt like they were fifteen or twenty again, when Bucky would drag Steve to every science exposition and science fair in town.

Yeah, Bucky had been pretty exhausted.


	2. Let our hearts beat in time

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Sunday morning, as usual

 

[Picture: Steve is kneeling at the side of a bed, in which lies Sam, his faded green army shirt contrasting with the bright red of the duvet. He is holding his head with one hand, while trying at the same time to move Steve away with the other. Steve, half naked, wearing only gray shorts, is looking at the camera with a thumb up.]

 

Good side of the serum: never having to deal with a hangover!

 

* * *

 

In the months since Bucky had come out of cryo, he had come to consider Shuri as a friend. She was the person he was spending the most time with, and one of the few to not treat him like a stranger or something ready to break at any second. She was like the sun, bright and warm. She reminded him of Becca, his younger sister and best friend, the same teasing voice, the same deadpan humor. Shuri reminded him of a time long gone, when he was still a kid, when he still had a family. She reminded him of Johanna and Martha, his little sisters, but contrary to T’Challa, having lived with three younger sisters had rendered Bucky immune to Shuri’s antics. 

He always forgot that T’Challa was a king and Shuri a princess. She was simply Shuri and him Shuri’s brother. Bucky only saw T’Challa at the lab, when he would come by to get updates on Bucky’s progress or to see his sister after a trip away from Wakanda. In the beginning, Bucky sometimes went outside with Shuri. He didn’t much like being out in the street. He still feared people would recognize him, would try to take him back to Hydra. He had spent the two years between the fall of Hydra at the Triskelion and the debacle in Zurich running for his life, always looking over his shoulder. It was a hard habit to break.

Although he knew no one would go against him, not when the Princess accompanied him, there still could be spies, people could still feel afraid, and frightened people were unpredictable. No, it was safer as much for him than for the others to remain inside the palace limits.

He only saw Queen Ramonda once, from a distance, in the garden. He had been reading  _ Lord of the Rings  _ (he remembered reading  _ The Hobbit _ to Jo and Martha before bed, and he had been excited to learn that the author had written more about this universe) when he had heard soft voices. He had looked up, had seen the Queen in an alley on the other side of the fountain. While the people around her hadn’t stopped talking, she had looked at him coolly, and he had slightly bowed his head, not knowing if it was required of him or not. Either way, it could pass as a simple gesture of greeting, of respect. She didn’t react, simply turned away.

So, when Shuri told him one day that he was expected to come to dinner, Queen’s order, he was very much surprised.

 

* * *

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re:Re: Hobbits are the best!

 

I’ve just finished reading Lord of the Rings, and I wonder why no one told me about these books before. When Eowyn kills the Witch-King, doing what a man could never do, it’s such a great scene! And Sam following Frodo against all the odds, carrying him on Mount Doom, never losing faith in his friend… I’m a bit afraid to watch the movies now, but Sam tells me they’re actually good.

  
  


From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re:Re:Re: Hobbits are the best!

 

Knew you would love it.

Watch the LotR movies. Not the Hobbit ones. They’re garbage.

 

* * *

 

Bucky didn’t know what to expect, but certainly not this. The dining room was of a reasonable size, there weren’t any ostentatious signs of wealth or rank. The windows were wide open, letting the setting sun shine onto the wooden table and chairs and caress the fresh flowers put at the center of the table. The tableware was already set, silver with golden lining. On the walls were colorful abstract tapestries. It felt warm and somehow simple. Nothing like Shuri’s lab or Bucky’s flat, where Wakandan technology always surprised and intrigued him, still making him feel like he had just stepped into a sci-fi book.

He was the first to arrive and he stood awkwardly at the door. The domestics briefly glanced at him, but otherwise ignored him as they were putting the last touches on the preparations of the dinner. He felt out of place, more than usual. He could remember the last family dinner he had been to the evening before he went out to train in the army, and it had been as messy and noisy as the room was currently properly set and silent, waiting for the others to arrive. 

Finally, Shuri came and smiled at him.

“First to arrive? That’s a surprise!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I was late once. This is getting old.”

“Oh, but it’s so easy… White Wolf,” Shuri said as she sat on the side of the table nonchalantly. She gestured at Bucky to the opposite side of her and he obliged, staring at Shuri with an eyebrow arched for the surname. This too was getting old, but he knew by now it was a lost cause. He only hoped she would never share the story behind the nickname, or he was sure to die from embarrassment.

He looked down and frowned when he saw too many spoons, knives, and forks to simply eat. Were they expected to fight? His breath caught when he realized he had considered how to use everything on the table as a weapon in the span of mere seconds. He cleared his throat and glanced back at Shuri.

“So… Do I have to bow or something to your mother?”

He already knew T’Challa wasn’t expecting any deferential signs from him or anyone. But the Queen… The only time he had caught sight of her, he had felt like an intruder. He had heard people talk about her with so much apprehension and wonder… The people loved her, and they obviously respected her a lot like in any other country one would respect a monarch.

“Na!” said Shuri with a shrug. “It’s family time tonight. Imagine you’re simply dining with your best friend’s mother.”

She winked and smiled as Bucky shook his head, hardly hiding his amusement at her attitude. 

“Right…”

He remembered the first time he had met his best friend’s mother. He had been six at the time. Steve had invited him to his house at the end of their first week at school, and they had spent the afternoon reading comics in Steve’s room, raiding the kitchen for cookies after a couple of hours. When Steve’s mum had come back from work, they had been lying on Steve’s bed, Bucky listening to Steve energetically explaining a superhero story he had imagined. She had glared at them, disapproving of their cookie raiding. Bucky had felt incredibly bad, but Steve had explained her with so much passion - like he did everything else - why they had to eat all those cookies. In the end Steve’s mum had simply gave up and fondly asked Bucky if he wanted her to walk him back to his parents. She had held his hand, Steve on the other side of her, as they went up the street, Bucky’s family living only two blocks away. He remembered her eyes, dark with exhaustion, but the corner of her mouth always turned up with fondness and love for her son. It had surprised him when he realized a couple of years later that she had started to look at him in the same way. 

They had shared the same worry over Steve’s well-being, both caring for him when he was too ill to get up from bed. The first time Bucky had worked, when he was fifteen, he had given her the money to help buy Steve’s medicine, and Steve’s mum had burst into tears. She had been too exhausted from the three jobs she had been working to let her pride get in the way of the money. “You’re a good man, James,” she had said, wrapping him in a tight hug. Steve had never known about this, how Bucky had always given a part of his wages to Steve’s mother, always tried to help with his medicine way before they lived together.

Sarah Rogers had accepted Bucky as a part of the Rogers family as much as Steve had been a part of the Barnes family. Bucky felt a knot in his stomach as he wondered what Sarah would have thought of him, of what he had become. 

T’Challa and Ramonda’s arrival tore Bucky from his thoughts.

“Good evening, Bucky,” T’Challa greeted him as Bucky rose to shake his hand. “I hope Shuri hasn’t annoyed you to death yet.”

“Brother!”

Bucky ignored the wounded cry of his friend and smiled. “I’ve survived worse, even if not by much.”

T’Challa chuckled as he took his place at the end of the table, and Bucky faced Shuri’s indignant scowl with a bright smile.

“Sergeant Barnes, thank you for coming here tonight.”

The Queen’s voice was calm and managed to end the siblings’ fight before it even started. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Bucky answered politely, still not sure what was expected of him.

Ramonda smiled, apparently satisfied, and made a hand gesture, signaling the domestics to bring the food.

 

* * *

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: Another great thing from the 21st century

 

Bubble bath, man. Bubble bath!

 

* * *

 

“So, where is Nakia, dear brother? Should we expect her soon at our table?” Shuri asked, her tone teasingly serious.

Surprisingly, T’Challa blushed and looked away for a moment while both his sister and mother chuckled.

“You know very well she’s working in Europe until next month.”

“But your sister is right. It would be nice to spend some time with her once she comes back. Especially if she is going to be part of the family.”

“What!”

Shuri’s jaw dropped as she looked repeatedly between her mother and her brother. T’Challa was blushing so hard Bucky was afraid the King was going to catch fire right then and there. When Bucky dared to glance back at Ramonda, she was hiding a smile behind her glass of wine.

“Have you finally decided to propose? When are you going to do it? Have you been rehearsing?”

T’Challa shook his head and drank before turning to his sister.

“Nothing is set. I haven’t decided anything, we have agreed to wait. There’s too much going on and…”

“But you have talked about his,” his mother interrupted with a knowing smirk.

T’Challa lifted his hands up, surrendering to the nagging of his family. He sat back in his chair, smiling nervously.

“Now is not the time, that is all you need to know.”

“You shouldn’t wait too long. I would like to see a grandchild before I go.”

“Mum!”

Bucky tried to keep his laugh silent. He had been at the end of this conversation one too many times. His sisters too. It was refreshing, not being in the spotlight for once.

“And Shuri, I know your work is important, but you should go out more often. Meet people.”

“Mother! I’m only seventeen!” 

This time, Bucky couldn’t help it and he laughed with T’Challa at Shuri’s offended look.

“Exactly. I was eighteen when I met your father. You’re young, you shouldn’t be hiding behind your work already.”

“Or are you spending all your time in the lab because of a certain N’Guessan?” T’Challa wondered innocently.

It was Shuri’s turn to suddenly blush. She was rendered speechless for a moment, which was a first for Bucky.

 

* * *

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: WHAT IS THIS TRAVESTY?!

 

HAVE YOU TRIED BANANAS? THEY ARE TASTELESS! WHAT HAVE THEY DONE???

 

* * *

 

Bucky didn’t say much during dinner, though he listened closely to the conversation that flowed easily between the members of the royal family. Shuri had been right, it felt like a family dinner he could have had back in Brooklyn, not some stilted formal affair he had been afraid of. It was surprising to see Shuri in this new context. She looked like the teenage girl she still was, taking pleasure in annoying her big brother and avoiding her mother’s inquiries. If he hadn’t seen her in the lab every other day, Bucky would have had difficulty believing she was the head of the Wakandan scientific division. T’Challa, good-humored as he was, failed to talk back to his sister as much as he wanted to. There was nothing mean in their exchanges, but Bucky had seen enough of this in his youth to recognize when someone admitted defeat. Bucky had experienced this too much with his own sisters. Then again, if it had been the first time Bucky had met T’Challa, he would have never guessed that the teasing, laughing man beside him could be a King. As for their mother, she had the same stern look as Steve’s mum, and the quick tongue of Bucky’s own mother who was used to the bickering of her children. While Bucky didn’t feel as much at ease with her as with her children, her kindness and no nonsense attitude tugged something deep in his chest. He hadn’t felt this way for a long time, and he realized how much he had missed this.

When he got back to his apartment, feeling lighter and happier than ever, he took his laptop and searched for his family. In one of his first emails, Steve had told him that out of his  three sisters, only Becca was still alive, but Bucky hadn’t wanted to know anything about her. While he didn’t feel prepared to see Steve again, he wasn’t sure he deserved to see Becca again. Although after tonight…

He went on social media and looked for Becca, her children, and grandchildren. There were pictures, a lot of them. Bucky felt his eyes fill with tears as he remembered their grandmother. Becca had the same wrinkles around her eyes and mouth for having laughed so much in her life, the same dark eyes that were bright with love for the people surrounding her. Bucky was glad to see her happy, and a little surprised to see her surrounded by such a big family; she had always complained about having too many siblings or overbearing parents, claiming she would remain on her own. She had married in her late-twenties and had had three sons. They all had three or four children each, and from what Bucky could learn from his nephews’ social accounts, they remained close to each other. 

As he kept looking (stalking, a voice sounding worryingly a lot like Shuri’s, whispered in the back of his head), he was surprised to suddenly see a known face on a picture: Scott Lang, who had fanboyed over Steve at the Berlin airport (Bucky couldn’t blame him, he still froze sometimes just thinking of Steve’s arms and Steve’s torso and… well, Steve in general). Scott was friends with Luis Gonzalez, one of Becca’s grandkids. Huh… What a small world. Bucky spent more time on Luis’ profile, saw a little more of Scott, learned that they met in prison. At first, Bucky felt second-hand shock to learn that a member of his family was apparently a criminal and had gone to prison. He tried to imagine Becca’s reaction when she had learned this. Then, Bucky remembered what he had done, and really, Luis’ petty theft was nothing compared to Bucky’s actions. And Scott seemed to be a good man from what Steve had said in some emails, so if the man was friends with Luis, it surely meant that Bucky’s grand-nephew couldn’t be bad. After all, Steve used to get in trouble too when they were still living in Brooklyn. If the war hadn’t happened, Bucky could easily picture him picking on someone important and landing in jail like too many activists did. Hell, Steve was currently on the run because he had tried to save Bucky from being wrongly accused of a terrorist attack.

Bucky missed Becca, missed his family. He regretted not being there to watch his sisters marry and have families of their own. He regretted not being there for them when their parents died, when Johanna and Martha left as well. But he could still have a part in this, he thought, hope filling him unexpectedly. Steve had given him Becca’s email, but Bucky had never dared to use it. He feared Becca’s rejection as much as he feared disappointing Steve. He wasn’t the Bucky they knew anymore, the one they used to love. 

He thought of Shuri and T’Challa teasing each other, fondness ever present between them. He thought of T’Challa asking after his sister’s projects, pride bright in his eyes and smile. He thought of Shuri encouraging T’Challa, praising him on his achievements. 

He opened a new draft and started writing.

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: rebecca.gonzalez@gmail.com

Subject: It’s been too long

 

Hello Becca,

 

It’s Bucky. Steve told me I could write to you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do it sooner. 

 

How are you?


	3. This crazy old notion that calls me sometimes

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Some tourist stuff… again

 

[Picture: The sun is bright in a cloudless sky, making the white of the ruins almost blinding. Sam and Natasha, backs turned to the camera, are standing close to each other as they watch the antique pillars and the remains of what could have been a temple. Natasha is blond now. Wanda, a couple of steps behind, is turning back smiling, presumably at Steve, who should be the one taking the picture. She’s holding her jacket, the sun too hot to wear it.

One of the pillars casts its shadow across the group, across the picture. ]

 

We’re not that old actually… - Athens, Greece

 

* * *

 

Bucky started the call and waited impatiently for Becca to pick up on the other side of the screen. 

They had exchanged a couple of emails since Bucky had first reached out to her a week ago, and she had seemed so excited to talk to him, Bucky wasn’t sure he deserved this. But he supposed he was still her brother, whatever he had done, and he was so glad she had  reached back.

An arm crossed the screen as someone tried to adjust the camera.

“Hello?”

Her voice was shaky and old, and Bucky felt his eyes tear up. The arm moved back, replaced by the smiling face of a thirty year old man - Luis, Bucky recognized him from social media he had definitely not been stalking around - and the not-thirty-year-old-anymore-by-a-long-shot Becca. She was crying and smiling and beautiful, and Bucky choked on a sob. He lifted an arm to touch the screen, his finger on her wrinkled cheek.

“Becca.”

She cried and Luis reached behind the screen, taking his seat back a second later with his hands now full of tissues.

“Here,  _ abuelita _ .”

Becca thanked her grandson and wiped tears from her face. Bucky took the occasion to discreetly press a hand on his eyes in an attempt to dry them.

“Oh, look at us, not even a word in and we’re both crying like babies. I look like mother,” she said.

“I knew you had a heart somewhere,” Bucky answered automatically and he froze as he realized what he had just said. But Becca laughed and Luis laughed too, and Bucky felt right.  _ This  _ he knew,  _ this _ he could be sure of. Becca had been a constant in his early life. He didn’t have to think, he simply had to be. 

They started to talk, Bucky asking most of the questions, curious about the family. Luis drifted away, moving around the living room doing some cleaning, but he interjected in the conversation from time to time. 

Bucky was amazed at the life Becca had built for herself, and while he hurt for not having been a part of it, Becca seemed determined to make him learn everything about everyone in the family.

An hour and a half had gone by without Bucky realizing when Becca asked him something he had not been expecting at all.

“Do you think you could come here in the fall? Marco is getting married and it would be so nice to have you there.”

“Oh yeah! It’s going to be awesome! The whole family will be there!” Luis exclaimed, looking back from the shelf in the corner where he had been putting back a couple of books.

Bucky took a moment to remember who Marco was. Becca’s second son. But…

“I thought he was living with Andre?”

“Yes, he is.” Becca looked at him funny, and then she gasped. “Oh! You don’t know?”

“What?”

Becca smiled softly and she leaned forward, as if to share a secret.

“Men can marry each other. Women too.”

“Dude, you didn’t know about that?” Luis came into view, bending to talk animatedly at Bucky. “It was huge back in 2015!” 

Luis kept on talking, ranting on about the fight for same-sex marriage, but Bucky couldn’t focus. Two men could marry. That was… unthinkable. He glanced at Becca, who still had a soft smile on her thin lips. She was crying again, and she radiated happiness and love. Bucky felt new tears coming up. He had known queer people were more accepted in America than in the 40s, but it was something else entirely to learn that it was legally accepted. This was the kind of thing that made him feel like he really was living in different times. Not the new technologies, not the historical books and articles that he could read. He thought of Steve, and of the struggle they had to go through back in the day. Today, they wouldn’t have to.

 

* * *

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Another great thing from the 21st century

 

[Picture: Drawing of Wanda’s portrait in black and white. Her lips are slightly turned up, eyes crinkling with malice. Hair drawn back, she’s holding her head with one hand, rings on every finger.]

 

Not having to carry around a whole case of drawing furniture thanks to DIGITAL ART!

 

* * *

 

Bucky had never researched anything on Steve. He was afraid of what he would find, of reading accounts of his own life and not recognizing himself. But after his conversation with Becca he felt more confident.

He might not be James Buchanan Barnes, a guy from Brooklyn sent to fight a war too big for him, but he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore either. He was Bucky, somehow a combination of these past two lives, and yet something completely new. He wasn’t sure what, exactly. He was still learning what made  _ him  _ today. It had been confusing, and it was still a bit frightening, but mostly now it was exhilarating. He was making peace with his past, slowly, and starting to feel like he could see a future for himself. A life past the Winter Soldier and Sergeant Barnes.

He settled on the couch, laptop on his crossed legs. At first, he looked for the people he knew from Brooklyn and the war. Unsurprisingly, he soon came across the Howling Commandos. Most of them were dead now, only Dum Dum was still alive. Bucky also knew this from Steve, who, after having woken up, had met with Dum Dum and Gabe. Gabe had died in his sleep a couple of years ago, just like Peggy. It was amazing, Bucky thought, that after all that they had been through, his old friends got to live a full life and die peacefully at an old age. Some had retired after the war, others had remained in the army. They all got to marry and have kids. As Bucky looked through the articles, he saw pictures of reunions of the remaining Howling Commandos, and he saw Dum Dum, Jones, and Steve hugging each other fiercely, all crying.

He read some of their quotes in a couple of Steve’s biographies and Howling Commandos history books, which made him smile more than once. Although reading about himself like he had learned about historical figures in school was a completely new experience, one he found absolutely weird. People were speculating and drawing conclusions from facts, but it had been his  _ life _ . They wrote about Bucky’s kills in World War II, praising his remarkable marksman skills and the number of Nazis he had shot. They didn’t write, didn’t  _ know  _ about how it had felt to put a bullet in a man’s chest or in a man’s head and see the blood flowing out through your scope. To see the lips of a man opening for a breath he would never draw. To watch a body crumple to the ground, knowing that it had been by your hand, that somewhere parents would miss a son, perhaps a wife would wait for her husband forever, that children would never get to know their father. He stopped reading reports on the war and the Howling Commandos, especially when he got to Steve’s death. That wasn’t something he was willing to think about. 

So, he read more of Steve’s biographies and the speculations about their shared youth. No one in the army knew Steve or Bucky before they joined, and Steve’s family had been dead well before he became Captain America. The only sources historians had were Bucky’s family, and he may have laughed a couple of times reading his sisters’ interviews. While their parents had stayed polite and vague, only sharing old photographs because they weren’t the kind of people who liked to talk about private matters to strangers - especially knowing it was going to be published and shared with millions of people - his sisters, well… Bucky never told his family about his relationship with Steve, but he never really had to. They had met when they were six and never left each other’s side since then. They had gone to school together, and when Steve couldn’t attend because of his illnesses, Bucky would spent more time with him than at his own home. When Steve’s mother passed away and Bucky announced that he would live with him, no one was really surprised. They had found a cheap one-room flat in Brooklyn Heights. His family knew Bucky dated some girls, and sometimes Becca would join him and Steve on their nights out, but he never brought one home and his parents never asked any questions about it. They didn’t talk about it, but they all knew. It had always been Steve&Bucky, and it would have always been Steve&Bucky. 

The first interviews and books excerpts were painful to read, because his family’s pain was still obviously fresh, and they were reluctant to talk about their son and their son’s best friend, whom they were both still mourning. The first time one of them acknowledged Bucky and Steve’s relationship, it had been in the early 80s, when it had been revealed that Becca’s second son was homosexual and that his partner had AIDS. Journalists had vultured down on Becca, asking her as a former best friend, almost family, to Captain America, how she dealt with having a deviant child. “My brother and his best friend lived for years in a neighborhood known for its large gay community. Do you think I haven’t known men in relationships together?” It was amazing how reporters could take a brief glance shared between a man and a woman as a sign of a secret love affair, and at the same time no one jumped to a conclusion after his sister’s quote. (Obviously, the historians said, they were poor, they didn’t have a choice about where to find a flat. Ha!)

Peggy had been asked about the relationship too, of course, but the interviewer always remained focused on the official version of the romance between her and Steve, never wondered about the ever-presence of Bucky in the story. It was already hard to picture the beloved Captain America as a bisexual man, it was impossible to even entertain the idea of him being in a poly relationship. This, especially, made Bucky frustrated, angry. His relationship with Steve back in New York, back before the war, had been natural, obvious, like the sun after the rain. There had been no question about it, though it didn’t mean they hadn’t gotten in trouble for it. But during the war, when they met Peggy, when they got around their feelings and realized they all wanted the same thing, to be together, the three of them, it had felt so much more important. Bucky had to deal with Steve being Captain America and not his best friend anymore. He had to deal with the gossip about Steve and Peggy, always having to keep a smile on his face instead of punching the guy making salacious comments. He had to deal with the remnants of the torture from Zola, with the horrors of the war. They had all clung to each other, and the moments spent with one or the two of them had brought him comfort and a sense of normalcy he had missed since he had been drafted, since he had had to leave Brooklyn. He wasn’t the type to tell everyone about his life, he was very much like his parents on this: what was private stayed private. But it was so infuriating to be automatically glossed over, like an afterthought. He was Steve’s childhood best friend. Then the war and Project Rebirth happened and Captain America was born. Steve met Peggy, the start of a great love story. He saved his childhood best friend, because Captain America was a good man who didn’t forget where he came from. Captain America gave his life to protect the country, to protect the world. People asked Peggy about his sacrifice, told her how hard it must have been to mourn the loss of a man as great as Captain America (always Captain America, never Steve), but no one ever asked her how she could survive losing two lovers. As if Bucky had been completely forgotten after his fall in the Alps, as if he had no ties to Peggy, only Captain America’s best friend. How great had she suffered? How did she ever get over it? Bucky couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like to lose both Steve and Peggy in such a short time.

Of course, there were people speculating on the Internet (you can find anything about anything on the Internet had been one of the first lessons taught by Shuri), but no official source. Bucky found discussion threads of queer activists trying to explain how Captain America might have been bisexual and trolls shutting them down, refusing to acknowledge the possibility of such a symbol of virility being with another man. That’s how Bucky had found himself watching videos of Steve speaking up about queer rights (LGBTQIA+, Shuri had said, but it was a mouthful he hadn’t quite learned yet). There was one, an excerpt from a panel conversation with the Avengers. Steve was at the center, between Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. Clint was on Natasha’s other side, and a dark haired guy with glasses who Bucky didn’t know sat at the other end of the table.

“Captain, same-sex marriage was legalized in all the states last month. Do you have anything to say about this?” a man with greying hair asked, a smug smile on his lips.

The Avengers looked at Steve with various expression of intrigued (Clint, the other man) or amused (Romanoff, Stark), some better at hiding it than the others. Steve took a deep breath and leaned forward on his mic, as if making sure everyone could hear him clearly. 

“I say it’s about damn time.” He hesitated for a moment, looking unsure if he should keep going, but when no one dared to say anything (obviously the man asking the question hadn’t expected this answer), he continued, “I’ve always been fighting for the rights and freedom of everyone.  _ Everyone _ . This includes the right of being who you are and loving who you love without fear.”

“Captain, are you gay?” someone else asked, as whispers grew louder in the room.

Bucky scoffed at the same time Steve did on the video.

“Are you asking me this because I’m supporting LGBTQIA+ rights? Would you ask me if I’m secretly a woman because I support equality between women and men? Would you ask me if I’m Muslim because I support the Muslim community?”

He was still smiling, but his voice hardened as he spoke. Natasha seemed to sense the shift in Steve’s mood and she put a hand on his shoulder, which made him pause. He briefly glanced at her and sighed.

“We have a limited time here with you,” he finally said, jaw clenched, “so I would prefer if you didn’t ask us stupid questions.”

“Hear, hear,” Tony Stark said, making a gesture for the next journalist to come up.

Bucky stopped the video and went to another one. This time Steve was on his own with the interviewer. They were both seated in dark armchairs that looked rather uncomfortable. They were slightly turned to each other, but the chairs mainly faced the camera. It was an excerpt of six minutes from an interview, dated from early 2016, not long before the whole Zurich debacle. Steve was laughing politely from his previous answer when the interviewer asked, “There have been regular sighting of you and Sam Wilson, aka The Falcon, around Washington. There are even rumors you live with each other. Is this true?”

For less than a second Steve lost his smile and his eyes darkened, but he regained his composure quickly. If Bucky wasn’t so fixated on him, he probably wouldn’t have seen it.

“Yes, I’m living with Sam.” Bucky tried to ignore the sting of jealousy at these words. He knew they were friends, and even if they weren’t, he had no right to keep Steve from seeing anyone else. They weren’t what they used to be anymore. “He’s my friend, and when I lost my apartment after an attack from… the Winter Soldier and the fall of SHIELD, it seemed easier to move in with Sam. And as he is my friend, I like hanging around with him.”

The interviewer nodded and looked down at his notes for show before another question.

“What about Miss Romanoff? You seem to be very close to her.”

This time, Steve didn’t make an effort to hide his annoyance.

“Yes, she’s my friend too. I’m sure you must have seen me with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner as well. Do you want to know if I am in a relationship with either of these men?”

“Well, Mr. Stark has been in a relationship with Miss Potts for some years now, which is remarkable for him, and-”

“Of course, having a relationship with more than one person at a time has never been heard of.” 

The interviewer stayed silent, taken aback by Steve’s interruption. Steve had his fists closed on his thighs, and there was no trace of a polite smile on his face anymore.

“Are you saying…”

“No, I’m not saying I’m in a relationship with Tony and/or Pepper,” Steve cut in again, exasperated. “What I’m saying is that the way you make assumptions from every little thing is becoming very tiresome. I understand people want to know more about me, and I’ll gladly answer any question about myself. But when it’s related to private matters that may include other people, I find these questions particularly intrusive.”

The interviewer nodded and raised an open hand in a calming gesture.

“Alright, I understand. So, you have been pretty vocal about the gay movement-”

“LGBTQIA+ movement.”

“Yes, of course, the LGBTQ…IA+ movement,” the interviewer continued, licking his lips nervously. Steve seemed totally unphased by this and Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. “So, do you feel like you belong in any way to this community? I’m not asking about your personal relationships, only about yourself.”

Steve sighed and shifted on his chair.

“I know people think I’m just a white men from the 40s and expect me to speak about how things were better back in the day, but they should remember that I come from a family of  Irish Catholic immigrants. My father died in 1918, my mother had to raise me on her own. I was a scrawny kid, always sick, so I was an easy target for bullies. I’ve known discrimination, I had to endure them. Things aren’t perfect today, but I’m glad to see they’re getting better. I had friends in the 40s who had to hide their relationships from their families, from their coworkers, because two men couldn’t be seen as a couple, and yet, last year, I was invited to their wedding. We never thought it could have been possible.”

The interviewer nodded once again.

“So, when you’re defending LGBTQIA+ rights, you’re thinking about those friends?”

“Yes. I’m thinking about them, and every kid who’s afraid to come out. I remember when I was a teenager and I had to hide my feelings, because they could have gotten me killed.” The interviewer blinked a couple of times and Bucky could see the moment he understood what Steve had meant, but Steve didn’t let him speak. “It was especially hard for me, because I liked both girls and boys, and it was hard to understand that. We didn’t have the Internet to look for words to apply to our feelings. We knew of men liking men and women liking women, of course, but of liking both? No, it wasn’t spoken about.”

“Did, um, did Peggy Carter know of your preferences?”

Steve looked down at his hands that were now resting, crossed against his stomach. His leg was twitching nervously. 

“Yes. We were very lucky, with Peggy,” he finally said, a small smile on his lips. “She was understanding, and we talked a lot about our feelings and sexualities. She  was amazing. Of course, it wasn’t always easy, we had to deal with the war, and we were often away with the Howling Commandos, but we managed to find some happiness in those dark times.”

The interviewer smiled too, respectful of Steve’s sincerity, but he didn’t remain silent for long.

“Did you… did you manage to find partners as comprehensive as her? Either before the war or now, in the 21st century?”

“As I said before, I won’t answer questions involving other people’s private lives,” Steve said in a hard tone, frowning.

“Of course, sorry.”

The interviewer, obviously flustered, fumbled with his notes and the video ended before he could ask another question.

Bucky closed the browser and lowered his screen. He closed his eyes for a moment as he let memories of the war flood him. He remembered Peggy’s confidence and Steve’s eagerness as they tried to navigate this new relationship. He had been afraid to lose his best friend, but instead he had gained a lover. Steve was right. They had found happiness, however brief it had been.

Bucky sighed and reopened his computer. He didn’t have to think much before writing an email to Steve.

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: (none)

 

I just watched you come out to the entire world (or at least a lot of people on Internet). Peggy was truly amazing, wasn’t she? 

I miss her.

 

He hesitated, wanted to write “I miss you too”, but wondered if he should. He looked at the hour in the corner of the screen. It was late. He should go to sleep, he had to meet with Shuri early in the morning. He didn’t add anything and sent the email.


	4. Lean on me

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: My friends are mean!

 

Nat, Sam, and Wanda have been teasing me for weeks about my lacking sense of fashion. I thought I had acclimatized to the 21st century, but Sam claims even his grandpa is more modern than me. So they “advised” me to watch this new show, Queer Eye, which is about five men doing makeovers for other guys. 

Please watch it. If I have to suffer through this, I don’t want to do this alone.

  
  


From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: My friends are mean!

 

You fucking punk! Because of your shit, Shuri caught me crying. Every. Fucking. Damn. Episode.

  
  


From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: My friends are mean!

 

Ahahahahahahah

 

* * *

 

The bar was crowded, air thick with music and too loud conversations. People weren’t paying them attention, even though M’Baku’s laughter was so loud Bucky was sure it could be heard across the room. He patted Bucky on his back, a careless gesture, one of easy friendship. Normally no one dared to touch him, except Shuri, and that was only during his check-up at the lab. It was… nice. Okoye was shaking her head, not impressed with M’Baku’s story, but her smile betrayed her.

“This seems highly unlikely,” she said, dryly. She drank the rest of her beer straight up as M’Baku turned towards her, vexed.

“Just because you and W’Kabi have the most boring meeting story doesn’t mean I have to be just as boring.”

“Are you calling me boring?” Okoye’s right eyebrow lifted up and even Bucky knew that was a bad sign. He drank some of his soda in silence, waiting to see how this would play out. But M’Baku didn’t rise to the challenge. He smiled, a mischievous smile that was so reminiscent of Shuri’s, and turned to Bucky. Traitor!

“Please, Mr White Wolf, I am sure you have proof that most of us can have an exciting love life.”

Bucky squinted at him, not liking how he had picked up on Shuri’s nickname, but M’Baku didn’t seem to care. He glanced at Okoye; she was waiting expectantly. Traitor, her too!

“Well…”

They well knew he hadn’t met anyone in Wakanda, that he wasn’t interested. And before that… It had always been Steve, then Steve and Peggy. He fidgeted a bit on his chair, trying to think of something to say.

It had been difficult, dating back in the day. It was hard to go out as a couple when it could get you killed. They had found ways, though. They would meet up with a couple of gals, go out for a few months, and people around them wouldn’t bat an eyelash when they saw two girls and two boys. Let them assume what they want to. It was a way to shut their parents up for a while as well, when they would get insistent that their children “find someone”, especially the girls. Then, when people would expect things to become serious, they would break-up. And repeat a couple of months later with someone else. 

“There was this girl I was going out with, Clarice. One night, we went to some fancy restaurant and we ate a whole tray of seafood. Afterwards we went for a walk on the beach. We sat on the sand, watching the waves coming and going. There weren’t a lot of people around, it was pretty romantic. So I leaned in to kiss her and… she puked.”

Okoye made a face and M’Baku’s eyes were wide-opened, obviously not expecting that.

“Were you such a bad kisser?” M’Baku teased, his laugh booming all around them.

“She had food-poisoning,” Bucky explained with a grimace. “I don’t know which one of us was the most mortified.”

It had been a double date, he and Steve, Clarice and Franny. Franny’s sister and Becca were friends from school. Franny had been the one to approach him and Steve, she had seen them together when she would come to get her sister and had made the proposition. Her and Clarice had already been together for two years by that point. 

The restaurant had been Bucky’s idea. He had had a good pay day and he wanted to make a whole evening out of it. Romantic dinner, walk in the moonlight, dancing at a new club. He had felt so guilty when Clarice had started to get sick. Bucky and Steve had stopped near the water, away from the girls to get some privacy. Fingers laced between them, Bucky had started to kiss Steve, even more giddy than usual at being so close to his best friend, when they heard Franny’s panicked cries.

“Did you see her again?” Okoye asked with a wry smile.

“No, her parents didn’t like me very much after that.”

Okoye chuckled and Bucky sighed as he remembered Clarice’s mortification when they brought her back to her parents. She had been so embarrassed, even Franny’s words of consolation hadn’t been enough. She had hurried inside the house without a glance back at the boys.

They had walked Franny back to her place, and both her and Bucky had spent the whole time apologizing. Bucky had been the one to choose the restaurant, Franny was sorry their date was ruined because of hers. Steve had tried to reassure both of them. Two days later, Franny called them to cancel their next date. Clarice’s parents didn’t much like the idea of letting their daughter go back out with the boy who had made her sick all weekend.

 

* * *

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: I made a new friend today

 

[Picture: A cat is sleeping across someone’s knees, her dark fur a contrast to the light beige trousers. A metallic hand is scratching the back of her head.

Red and yellow tulips are seen in the corners of the picture]

 

Her name is Olive.

 

* * *

 

They traded more stories as the night passed. M’Baku seemed to have countless of them, though Bucky and Okoye had some of their own. Bucky told them of what it had been like being friends with a little punk who was always picking fights with bullies. Okoye told them embarrassing stories about T’Challa and Shuri, and Bucky was not going to forget them! He finally had ammunition against Shuri’s teasing. 

Then, as it usually turned out, their conversation became more serious as more alcohol was drunk. They talked about recent events, of Bucky being a fugitive and T’Challa having his claim to the throne contested by Killmonger. There was always strife, always a war somewhere, and it was becoming so tiresome. But they couldn’t stop fighting. They had people they cared about to protect, they had ideals to defend. 

It felt like those nights around campfires or in some French or English bar, when the Howling Commandos would share a drink and talk about what they would do after they stopped Hydra, after the war ended. A haven in the middle of the darkness. They tried to remember what they were fighting for, what they were protecting. Dum Dum had a wife and a baby daughter waiting for him back in Cleveland. Montgomery wanted to travel a bit, but not  _ like this _ , before settling somewhere, perhaps abroad if he met a girl worth staying for. Morita was getting married to his high school sweetheart as soon as the war ended - they wanted to open an inn together. Jones had a job waiting for him at his father’s garage, and he wanted to spend more time with his family, with nieces and nephews he had never seen yet. Dernier joked about making a career out of fireworks. Without his chronic illnesses, Steve would finally have the time to work on his art, to make a career out of it, although Bucky doubted Steve would be able to leave Captain America behind so easily. As for Bucky, he would had gone back to his job on the docks, close to his family, as long as Steve and Peggy were there, but he never said that last part out loud, even if he was pretty sure the Commandos had all known what had been going on.

Now, Bucky guessed, it hadn’t really changed. He wanted out of the fight, he wanted Steve back, just  _ his  _ Steve, not Captain America. He wanted some peace.

 

* * *

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Another great thing from the 21st century

 

Cars. They might not fly yet, but what they’re doing now is already incredible! I can even drive with one arm!

 

* * *

 

M’Baku had given up around 3a.m. Okoye and Bucky had stayed until last call, and now they were stumbling back to the palace. Okoye had put her arm around Bucky after tripping on nothing. She tried to stay straight, and Bucky politely ignored the way she had been leaning way too much on her arm. 

“You won’t say a word about it to anyone. If I hear even a whisper…” She didn’t finish her threat, but she didn’t need to. Bucky may have been the deadliest assassin of the past half century, but even  _ he  _ knew when to be afraid of someone and this was one of those moments.

The palace was a black silhouette on the dark sky getting lighter each minute. Dawn was on the way, the sun would rise in an hour, maybe less.

“Do you sleep well?” Okoye asked, more grave than she had any right to be in her state.

“I… huh… what?”

Bucky may have not drunk any alcohol, but he was tired and hadn’t expected this new conversation. 

“You’ve spoken more about the war and what you had to do then and… after… I just wondered…” She shrugged, and this was so completely out of character for her, the nonchalance with which she was speaking, all her perfectly maintained cool exterior vanished, Bucky didn’t know how to react. He stopped, and Okoye stumbled a couple of steps before she realized he wasn’t moving anymore. She turned back to him and winced as she looked up.

“Sorry. I didn’t manage to sleep much last night. I kept seeing all the men I killed, men I used to know and…”

She shook her head and Bucky took a deep breath.

“I know what you mean. I’ve been sleeping better for a while, but I’m not there yet.”

He frowned as he tried to find the right words. He kept his hand on Okoye’s arm to keep her from falling.

“Even during the war, I couldn’t rest. I was always seeing the soldiers I had taken down and it haunted me every night. I didn’t even knew them, so I can guess how incredibly difficult it must be for you.”

He didn’t say that the nights spent with Steve and Peggy had always been easier because he never had to fight against them. Okoye still had a hard time coming to terms with W’Kabi’s decision to align himself with Killmonger. Though they had gotten back together, taking things slow, Bucky guessed from Okoye’s silences that it wasn’t as easy as she let on.

“I hope Shuri will heal you soon,” Okoye said, fumbling to pat Bucky’s shoulder.

“She might erase Hydra’s triggers, but there are things even she can not heal.”

Okoye made a grimace, apparently sad from what Bucky had just said.

“I know.”

She sighed the deepest sigh Bucky had ever heard and looked out at nowhere, her face suddenly blank. Bucky chuckled and took her by the shoulders to get back moving.

“Okay, time for bed!”

Okoye groaned, but let him guide her towards the palace. Luckily, they didn’t cross path with too many guards, and those they did see were polite enough (or too afraid of them) to look away and ignore them as they stumbled back to their rooms.


	5. May your sweet dreams come true

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: WTF with Bambi

 

So, apparently Bambi has traumatized whole generations of kids? Shuri was outraged when I told her it was “kinda nice”. (I had to remind her that I was 25 when we first saw it at the movies.)

  


From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: WTF with Bambi

 

“kinda nice”? I remember a certain someone crying for a whole hour when we got out…

  


From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: WTF with Bambi

 

Shut up.

 

* * *

 

“Aaaaand I’m done with you!”

Bucky looked up from the ground as Shuri stepped back, a wide grin on her face. She had been working on his new vibranium arm, and he hadn’t even felt it when she had finished her check-up.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked for good measure while he put his blue shirt back on.

“Nope.”

He stopped, head barely out of his shirt, gaping at his friend.

“You mean…”

“Yup! Mind free from Hydra conditioning and arm ready!”

Bucky laughed as he finished dressing. It had been almost a year since he had woken up from cryo, and while he knew Shuri would be able to heal him, he had never thought there would come a day when he would actually be free from Hydra’s grasp.

“Don’t be a stranger though!” Shuri warned with a finger pointed at him. “I expect you to come and hang out with me, White Wolf.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, little one.”

“Oh, shut up and go away, grandpa. Go read a book or whatever old people do these days.”

She was staring at her tablet, fingers dancing across the screen at lighting speed.

“Okay, okay.”

He walked across the room and stopped at the door. He turned back. Shuri had settled at her desk. He shook his head, feeling a bit like an idiot, when he walked back to her. She turned around, looking intrigued, but he didn’t let her speak, simply took her in his arms. It had been a long time since he had hugged anyone.

“Thank you.”

She sighed against his shirt

“No problem,” she murmured, voice soft.

When he let her go, he pretended not to see the tears in her eyes.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah!” She waved a hand in dismissal and Bucky smiled, feeling content as he left the lab.

 

* * *

 

 

From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re: Re: Re: About the music

 

Queen is pretty great though.

 

* * *

 

Bucky hadn’t told Steve the news yet. Two weeks had passed, but he couldn’t do it. He wanted to, had started many drafts, but couldn’t get himself to send one. He was too nervous. What if Steve didn’t like what he had become? What if Steve had changed too much as well and _Bucky_ didn’t recognize him, didn’t like him anymore? What if…

Bucky sighed, looking down at his phone. Steve’s last email was opened, his grinning face taking up the whole screen. God, Bucky loved him so much! Deep down, he knew he wanted to see Steve, to feel him, but there was this nagging voice pushing at his insecurities.

Footsteps approached him softly. He looked up. Queen Ramonda had stopped in front of him, gazing at him with a soft smile. “May I sit?”

Bucky nodded dumbly, moving a bit to make some room for her on the bench.

“T’Challa told me your recovery was complete. I’m glad.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. Queen Ramonda always made him uneasy every time he saw her.  She was kind and gentle with him, but not in the hesitant way other people could be when they were still afraid he could revert to Hydra’s killing machine. Still, she had a presence, an aura that made it impossible to forget that she had been helping lead a country for the better part of her life, that she was someone a whole people had been depending on. He admired and respected her, but there was something about her that made him feel out of place in her company.

“I’m surprised to have not seen Captain Rogers yet.”

She glanced at him sideways, and if Bucky didn’t know better, he would have sworn there was a smirk playing on her lips.

“I, huh. I haven’t told him yet,” he admitted, a blush creeping on his cheeks like he was a child caught stealing a cookie.

Ramonda sighed and elegantly crossed her fingers on her thighs.

“The bond you share with Captain Rogers, it is something very special. Not a lot of people can claim to have known this kind of love. What you have been through, the both of you, it is special too. You have greatly suffered and changed as a result, but you have both come out on the other side.” She turned to him and surprised him by putting a hand on his. “If he has loved you all this time, I don’t think he’ll stop anytime soon.” She bent her head slightly, eyes warm and caring.

Then she stood up and left with a teasing, “Good day, Mr White Wolf.” Bucky was so stunned by the whole interaction that he didn’t react before she had left the gardens. The phone was heavy in his hands. Perhaps it was time.

He breathed once, twice, and unlocked the phone. He went to his emails, and quickly sent one before he could second-guess himself. Now, he just had to wait.

  


* * *

 

 

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: (none)

 

Shuri says everything is good with me. You can come here, if you want to.

  


From: onceapunk@supersecureemail.wak

To: oncepunk@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: Re:(none)

 

I’ll be there ASAP.

 

* * *

 

Bucky was a wreck. It had been a week since Steve had sent him his last email, warning him of his arrival, but there was still no sign of him. Steve wouldn’t let him down, he knew that, but he was anxious. Every time the door opened, every time he heard a voice, he expected to see him, and every time he had to swallow back his disappointment. This did nothing good for his nerves, and that almost made him laugh. He was a former soldier, a former assassin, he had been a ghost story for the intelligence world, and where was he now? Anxious about his love’s return like a schoolboy waiting for the first sight of his crush. This was extremely, completely ridiculous.

He had gotten into the habit of hanging out with Shuri (Okoye had forcefully sent him away when he had tried to follow her on her duties), playing with instruments laid around the lab, taking interest in her works. He didn’t always understand, but she made an effort to explain to him what she was doing, and it kept his mind off of a certain someone.

She had been working on his arm - she had been toying with a new idea for a couple of days - when the door opened. Bucky tried to ignore the somersault his stomach did at the noise.

“Hello sister. Bucky,” greeted T’Challa as he entered the room.

“Brother! You’re right on time, I’ve just finished my new experiment,” Shuri informed him as she backed away from Bucky, putting down her tools. “How are you?”

The siblings embraced, and Bucky looked away to give them a sense of privacy while he grabbed his shirt to put it back on.

“Hi.”

Bucky froze, before slowly turning around. Yes, Steve was here. This wasn’t his imagination playing some trick. Steve fucking Rogers was standing in Shuri’s lab with his stupid beard and his stupid blue eyes and his stupidly big hands.

“Hi.” He barely heard the sound of his own voice, his throat was suddenly so dry. When had he last had a drink? Had Shuri played with the thermostat again? It was too hot, and he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. God! He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He barely registered Shuri and T’Challa leaving, Shuri giving a two finger salute with a grin behind Steve’s back.

“So… You’re here…”

“I told you I would come.”

“I know.”

What was happening? Bucky couldn’t think of something smart to say and Steve looked as nervous as him. They were a hundred years old each, they had fought and killed in war, they had woken up in a whole different world, they shouldn’t be that nervous! Bucky fixed his eyes on his shirt, fumbling around with it to find a way to put it on. When had dressing himself become this difficult? It was only a tee, for fuck’s sake!

He saw Steve’s legs coming up to him, stopping right in front of him. Warm hands covered his own and Bucky half-sighed, half-sobbed.

“You’re all right?”

He looked up. Steve was staring at him worryingly. His brows were furrowed, and Bucky got the feeling he wasn’t simply asking after Bucky’s obvious anxious state. He had thought he would be afraid of not knowing what to do, of feeling like a stranger in Steve’s arms, but it was Steve. It had always been Steve. Bucky smiled, hoping Steve wouldn’t notice the tears coming up.

“Hey, punk.”

His tone was almost teasing, completely _him_. Steve groaned as he moved forward, and Bucky soon found himself tackled against a big, firm torso, strong arms around him. He closed his eyes, breathing in Steve’s scent, and shuddered when Steve’s breath tickled his ear, his neck.

“Missed you, jerk.”

Yeah, Bucky would be all right. They would both be all right. They were home.


	6. Epilogue: Who cares where we go

Bucky and Steve arrived on a Tuesday morning. They were hiding in the shadow of a tree, watching the ordinary house standing in an ordinary suburban street. There was no car parked in front of the house, no children playing on the lawn. But a woman came and went in her living room, oblivious to the two men a hundred feet away. She was speaking on the phone, a hand put protectively over a prominent belly.

“She looks good,” Steve stated, relief and fondness heavy in his voice.

Bucky took his hand, laced their fingers.

“We should go.”

Steve nodded and they walked up the paved walkway to the front door. Steve knocked two times against the blue painted door. Bucky held his breath as they heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. It took an eternity before it opened on Peggy. Whatever she had been ready to say died before it came out of her lips. She froze in place, right hand still on the handle, the other in her back, her mouth forming a silent “oh”. Then she furrowed her brows and swung her left arm, brandishing a handgun. “Who are you?” she asked, hard lines all over her face.

“It might sound unbelievable, but we are from the future.” Steve had raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Bucky put both his hands in his jacket, rolling his eyes. Steve could have explained everything to Peggy, but she would never believe them until they gave her some proof.

“Paris, winter 1944. You started calling this guy a “bloody nutter” privately after you punched Steve in the guts because he had been jumping through fire like an idiot  _ again _ , and he cried like a  _ fucking idiot _ even though it didn’t hurt him.”

Steve started to protest, but stopped when he saw Peggy lowering her arm.

“Is it really you?”

Bucky and Steve both nodded and an incredulous laugh escaped Peggy. She shook her head, seeming to will away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She took a step back and pointed to the living room with her head. “Get in, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

 

They talked all morning and well into mid-afternoon. Peggy had questions, a lot of them, and Bucky and Steve tried to answer the best they could. Steve was always the one stopping Bucky from revealing too much, it was so hard to not tell her everything. Bucky wondered about his counterpart being currently held by Hydra and imagined what would happen if they broke him free, if they spared him the decades of torture and brainwashing. But that would mean he would lose what he had with Steve now, and besides, they couldn’t mess any more than they already had with the timeline.

Peggy told them about the SSR and the founding of SHIELD. She told them about her marriage with Gabe Jones and their children, third on the way. Gabe had known about them, had understood her pain, her loss bigger than anyone could have imagined. She had moved on, though she kept fighting in their memory. She was happy.

 

They danced and they laughed. 

 

“Are you happy?” she asked when they were ready to leave before Gabe came back with the children. Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance and they both smiled.

“We are,” Bucky assured her. 

She nodded, her eyes warm with love. “Good.”

She kissed them both goodbye and watched them disappear back into their own time.

 

* * *

 

Bucky had said his goodbyes to Shuri and T’Challa. Shuri had teased him about going on a honeymoon and threatened him to send her news every couple of days and to bring her presents. T’Challa had hugged him, wishing him well. He had even caught Queen Ramonda’s eyes across the gardens. She had smiled at him and slightly bowed her head before resuming her walk.

He had been walking back to the rooms he shared with Steve when he heard voices. He stopped behind the door, only moving his head to glance into the room. Steve and Sam were standing at the table, Steve’s shield laid down on it.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam exclaimed, eyes bulging out of his face.

“I can’t think of someone else more worthy to wear it.”

“Oh, shut up! You’re gonna make me cry!”

Steve chuckled.

“But seriously, you’re sure about this?” Sam’s voice was concerned, and Steve nodded firmly.

“Yes. I have been Captain America for too long. It’s time I become Steve Rogers again.”

 

* * *

From: wh1t3w0lf@supersecureemail.wak

To: princess.badass@supersecureemail.wak

Subject: From Paris, with Love

 

[Picture: Bucky is holding the camera, the angle is slightly off. Steve is hugging him from behind, both grinning at the camera. Bucky’s hair is held in a bun, the sleeveless shirt bringing out his left arm looking like a flesh one (courtesy of Shuri’s hologram). His black shirt has a white wolf on it. Steve is growing a beard again.]

  
  


* * *

 

Discovering each other all over again was exciting.


End file.
